Song of Man, Song of Woman

The earthen stalk hath conquered all!
Towers in his path did fall,
merely at his resounding call.

The earthen stalk hath consumed death,
delivered life to the final breath.
From bleached fingers flesh was theft.

The earthen stalk is surely king,
though nothing without soil.
All his victories and virtues,
in vain without her toil.

Even the greatest of all trees,
without a fabric, cease to be.